


Sexier than Doctor Sexy

by mollswinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Car Accidents, Doctor Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean, but like super minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 12:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollswinchester/pseuds/mollswinchester
Summary: For the prompt: Fuck, I feel like I got hit by a car… Wait, I did? And it was your car??





	Sexier than Doctor Sexy

At first, all Dean can hear is a ringing in his ears. He’s not used to this kind of hangover and, hell, he doesn’t even remember drinking. In fact, he has no idea what the fuck is going on and he can’t see anything other than blobs of people above him.

Did he pass out? Shit, Sam is always getting on his case about his bad eating habits, maybe the last bacon-cheeseburger he ate was one too many. Apparently, you’re never too young to go into cardiac arrest.

He groans, trying to sit up, when someone’s hand lands on his shoulder. Dean has to focus, hard, but he sees a man standing above him, concern lacing all corners of his face. Dean struggles, trying again to push himself up. He can’t, though, because something is wrong with his right wrist and it hurts when he pushes on it. 

As things start becoming clearer, Dean realizes that he’s lying down right by a sewage drain on the side of the road. 

“Fuck, I feel like I got hit by a car,” he moans, squinting his eyes in an attempt to get them to focus. 

“Oh, thank God you’re alright,” the guy above him says. He has dark hair and strong features and Dean wonders what the hell got him into this position. 

“Why wouldn’t I be alright? What the hell happened?”

The other man frowns and helps Dean sit up, the small of his back leaning against the curb. The guy is in light-blue scrubs and as Dean looks past him, he sees multiple other concerned-looking people staring at him. 

“I--uh, I hit you with my car,” the man says. 

“Wait, so I actually got hit by a car? I’m not just hungover?”

The man in front of him tilts his head but doesn’t react. “Sir, can I call you an ambulance?”

“No,” Dean says, trying again to push himself up, using a different arm this time. He gets into a crouching position and then falls over, too dizzy to be entirely upright. Dean leans back against the curb and pulls one knee up, leaning his elbow on it and putting his head on his hand. Immediately, he pulls his hand away due to feeling something wet and sticky. When he looks, he sees bright red blood on his palm and leans over to throw up.

“Sir, you have a concussion--”

“Oh yeah? And who are you to diagnose me? You just hit me with your damn car!” Dean groans, wiping at his mouth and gagging again, this time because he’s disgusted by the taste of vomit.

“I’m a doctor,” the man says. 

“Well thanks, but I think I’m fine, doctor,” he mocks, trying to stand up again. This time, he stands up completely before falling forward into the arms of the doctor, who clearly is struggling to hold him up. Dean doesn’t protest again as the guy helps him walk over to a car. The man helps him into the passenger seat before Dean realizes what’s happening. 

“‘M not goin’ anywhere with you,” he mumbles. He wonders how everyone else that was gathered around is just letting this happen.

“Since you won’t let me call you an ambulance, I’m taking you to the hospital myself.” He closes the passenger door and moments later climbs into the driver’s side. 

“This is an ugly car,” Dean says, before leaning his head on the window, suddenly very tired. 

“Sir-- Sir, you have to stay awake.”

“I’m a little sleepy, I was just hit by a car.” Dean growls. 

“Yes, which is exactly why you can’t go to sleep.” 

Sighing, Dean relents and turns his head slowly so as to not upset his stomach in order to really look at the man. He’s built and strong-looking and Dean’s content with staying awake if he gets to keep looking at him. His lips are full, though they look chapped, and cheekbones are high. He’s frowning, but Dean can’t help but find that the creased lines on his forehead make him more attractive. 

“You’re so good looking, you could play Doctor Sexy,” Dean slurs. The other man chuckles but keeps his eyes on the road as he turns a corner. 

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Don’t know if you’d look great in cowboy boots, though. And personally, I don’t think that Doctor Sexy is half as sexy as you.” The guy laughs again.

“What’s your name?” the doctor asks. 

“Dean.”

“Okay, Dean, I’m Castiel. Or Cas.”

“Castiel? Like the angel?” though Dean’s getting more delirious by the second, he notices the surprise on Castiel’s face. People probably don’t often understand what his name means, Dean imagines. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he asks, a dreamy smile on his face. 

“Dean, how are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car. Hey, why’d you hit me, anyways?”

“You ran out in front of me and I didn’t see you,” Cas answers. It’s then that Dean remembers how late he is to work because he was, in fact, drinking last night. He was running through town, trying to get to the garage before Bobby noticed he hadn’t checked in. But hey, getting hit by a hot doctor’s car is as good an excuse as any to taking a sick day. 

“Maybe it was because I hated your car.” Dean answers, beginning to close his eyes again. Then the car stops, and the next thing he’s aware of is Cas leaning over him, already standing outside next to the passenger door. 

“Alright, Dean, you gotta stay awake.”

“‘M awake.”

“Good. Okay, we’re at the hospital, do you think you can make it to the door or should I get a wheelchair?”

“‘M fine, let’s go.” Sure, Dean was hit by an ugly ass prius and probably broke his entire body, but he’s not gonna let his dignity disappear as far as to let the guy wheel him into the ER. 

“Alright,” Cas says, helping him up and holding his arm over his shoulder as he helps Dean to the door. 

Once they’re inside, the sudden smell of hospital makes Dean want to throw up again. He’s just about to throw up on Cas when he takes a deep breath and luckily keeps whatever food is left in his stomach where it belongs. 

“Clarence, what are you doing back?” a short woman with brown hair in purple scrubs asks, ignoring Dean. 

“I--uh-- hit him with my car,” Cas says. 

The woman laughs at loud, and Dean finds it in him to somehow be offended. 

“He’s definitely got a concussion, and possibly a broken wrist.”

“Alright, bring him on back.” Cas then walks Dean to a room with flowers on the wallpaper and a fancy, high-tech computer coming out of the wall. Cas sits Dean down on the bed covered with a sheet of paper but he doesn’t leave. Instead, Cas sits down in the chair next to the bed while the woman stands in front of the computer and begins tapping the screen. 

“What’s your name?” she asks. 

“Dean Winchester.”

“Birthday?” and so on, she continues asking questions. When she’s done, she prints something out and then gives Dean a hospital bracelet, putting it on the wrist that doesn’t hurt. 

Cas still doesn’t leave.

“Thanks, Meg.” Cas says as she walks out of the room. 

Dean’s head clears up a little bit as they wait for someone else to come into the room. He’s able to breathe deeply and think about what’s happening. And he’s able to look at Cas again. The dude is seriously easy on the eyes. 

“How are you feeling now?” Cas asks.

“Better.”

“Good.”

“Wait--did that girl say ‘why are you back’? Were you on your way home from work when you hit me?”

“Yes, I had just finished a 12 hour shift.”

“Damn. You don’t have to stay, you know.”

“Sure I do. I have to pay for your hospital bills.”

Dean lifts his head up from where he was leaning it on the wall. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m the one who hit you with my car.”

“Oh. Well… thanks.” He tries not to show how grateful he is. Hospital bills are expensive and Dean’s a freelance mechanic with no health insurance. 

Cas stays with Dean the entire day, through multiple tests and the gruesome setting of a broken bone in his wrist. It’s dark outside when everything is finally done and Cas helps walk Dean out to the parking lot. 

“Where do you live?” Cas asks when they’re back in the car. Dean tells him and gives simple directions to his and Sam’s house. 

“Do you have someone to take care of you while you’re still concussed? Perhaps a partner?”

“Nope. No partner.” Dean replies awkwardly. “I live with my brother, though, so I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Cas answers and they’re quiet the rest of the way to Dean’s, save for him giving a few directions. 

“So, Cas, I know you’re already paying for the medical bills, and you’ve given me a ride to and from the hospital today, not to mention letting me squeeze your hand when that evil bastard was setting my wrist--”

“Dean, he had to do it--”

“But I really don’t think you’ve payed off your debt yet.”

“Oh? And what else would you have me do?” Cas asks, holding onto Dean’s arm tightly as he walks him up to the front door of Dean’s house. 

“Let me take you out on a date?” Dean nervously glances at Cas’s face to see his eyes wide and immediately regrets saying anything. “Unless I’m totally misreading everything, in which case you really have already done more than enough--”

“No, it’s not-- I’d love to go on a date with you. In ten days, though, because until then you’re going to be resting and getting better.” Cas smiles and Dean lets out a shaky breath in relief. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

Cas gently plants a kiss on Dean’s temple.

“I’m so glad you hit me with your car,” Dean jokes and Cas rolls his eyes. Before he leaves, the two exchange numbers and Dean successfully convinces Cas to visit him the next day when he gets off work, because he is, after all, the reason Dean has a concussion in the first place. Even if Dean just wants an excuse to see him again.


End file.
